


Interlude At The Museum

by Desade



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Blasphemy, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:29:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desade/pseuds/Desade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short piece I wrote after being prompted by a follower about 'Priest Tom'.  This sort of took a different turn, but it's short, sweet and filthy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude At The Museum

 

The first time he touched you was in the Hall of Statuary. Tom was guiding you to a piece he’d spied from across the room, and slid his arm around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. You leaned into his side as he led the way through the collection, feeling the goosebumps tickling up and down your spine.

You pulled away in the weapons gallery, darting from one glass case to the next as you raved about the genius that decided that ancient weapons could, indeed, be classified as art. You pointed out many of your favorites to Tom while he just grinned at you, amused by your enthusiasm.

You stuck out your tongue before saying, “If you think I’m excited now, wait until we get to the next room! The religious icons are my all time favorites.”

Tom laughed and replied, “Lead on, then.”

You took his hand and fairly dragged him through the arched entrance to the icon gallery.

You paused just inside the room, gaze slipping over the ancient tributes to God. The sunlight fell from windows set high on the left side of the room, glinting off the gold leaf and teasing a shine out of centuries old tempera. Squeezing Tom’s hand, you fairly bounced with excitement.

“You have to see this first,” you exclaimed, and pulled Tom to the back corner of the room. “It’s part of an old church that the museum salvaged, restored and rebuilt here!” ‘

He looked over the life sized diorama, taking in the ornately carved confessional closet, hung with red velvet curtains. To the side was a marble holy water font, and two shortened pews to fit into the oddly shaped space. At the front of the “church” was a prie-dieu centered under a large crucifix, flanked by tall candles.

Dropping Tom’s hand,you moved over to the font, wetting your fingers. You genuflected, then crossed yourself before approaching the crucifix and kneeling on the soft cushion of the prie-dieu.

You grinned back at Tom over your shoulder, and said, “Old habits die hard. Damn catholic school.”.

He smiled at you before walking around the “church”, inspecting the icons hung on the wall. You regained your feet and headed for the confessional, running your fingers over the shaped wood, then twitching the curtain aside, peering into the dim interior.

“Tom,” you called, “come see this.” He stepped next to you, checking out some of the finer carvings worked into the dark walnut. “Got anything that needs confessing,” you half-joked, catching his eye as you smiled.

“Maybe one or two things,” Tom replied slowly, a grin rising on his face.

“Bet I could add a few more to your list,” you teased.

“Oh really? Like what?”

You turned toward him, sliding one hand up the back of Tom’s neck to tangle in his hair as you pressed your mouth to his. A moment of shock and then he reciprocates, arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as you kiss him deeply. Tom disengages to gasp a breath and you pull him into the confessional, the red velvet swinging closed behind you.

It’s small inside, but has a convenient few ledges, along with the narrow bench for the penitent. Tom shoves you back against the wall, mouth covering yours, hands beginning to wander. You moan as his fingers brush against the swell of your breast, then trace a line down your side to grip your ass. You lift your foot to the narrow bench and pull him closer between your now spread legs, gasping as he presses against your center. You capture one of Tom’s large hands and pull it down, yanking your skirt out of the way and laughing at the look on his face when he realized you weren’t wearing any panties.

He growls and fumbles with his belt, tearing it loose and freeing himself to shove roughly into you, pulling a moan from deep in your throat. Pinned to the wall of the confessional, legs spread, one foot propped up on the bench, you hold on to his shoulders as he fills you over and over again. He’s grinding into you at a maddeningly slow pace, teasing you to orgasm. You’re begging him now, pleading for him to just fuck you, hard, fast and deep, just fuck you. But Tom just grins down at you and keeps slowly sliding in and out, making you whine and shake.

After what seems like forever, Tom pulls back and turns you around. He grips the nape of your neck and bends you forward, flipping your skirt up over your ass with his other hand. With one hard thrust he fills you full and leans forward over your back, covering you. Tom’s hands go to your hips, digging in and holding you steady as he fucks you with a vengeance. You come then, screaming as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder and explodes inside you. He collapses back onto the bench, pulling you with him, your legs spread wide outside his own, and he grinds deep into you as you finish coming.

When you finally regain your breath, you giggle lightly and whisper, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…”


End file.
